All The Theories!
by AlwaysCastle
Summary: This is a collection of various theories kimmiesjoy and I have about the rest of season Four. These are the products of the two of us fangirling like crazy, and coming up with wild theories Richard Castle himself would be proud of. Theory 6!
1. Theory One

**A/N: This is a collection of various theories kimmiesjoy and I have about the rest of season Four. SO this is the product of the two of us fangirling like crazy, and coming up with wild theories Richard Castle himself would be proud of. And without further ado... on with the first theory:**

* * *

**Castle Theory # 1**

He doesn't understand what pulls him from sleep. What it is that stirs his senses when nothing in the world should be able to wake him and drag him from the warmth and comfort of his bed.

Not tonight.

He smiles down at her sleeping form, arm draped across the pillow as she sleeps. He rolls towards her, in a vain effort to fall back into the satiated haze they created for themselves, wrapped in his sheets. But he's too wired, and looking upon her, hair fanned out in a beautiful mess and her entire back exposed to him, he finds his mind drifts to someplace outside his bedroom.

He sighs, tangling her fingers with his and squeezing them before he slips from the warmth of her body. He never thought he'd experience her next to him like this. But he knows leaving the sanctuary by her side, is something he must do, even on this night, the few hours after they finally bridged the gap, broke through the tension within which they so blindly lived these past years.

He stands by his doorway pulling pajama pants and a loose t-shirt on to cover his naked frame, and stares at Kate a moment before he shuts his door to a crack. He tiptoes into his office and looks upon the one thing that could ruin what they had just created.

The smart board looms in the darkness. It seems bigger and more menacing now, in light of everything he's just left in his bed. But he must go to it. Sitting on the edge of his desk, he leans forward, and taps it lightly, illuminating his office in a bluish light.

He still plans to sit here night after night, because even when his heart was broken from her lie, he sat here. She healed it, made him whole again the moment she explained why. Why she remembered and pretended she didn't, why she hid the truth for as long as she did. And though she didn't have the gall to tell him _herself_ when it came down to it, she loved him and that was enough.

Castle knows that no matter what has happened between them, he will always be led here, to this board full of mystery he's not sure he can solve, just like the woman asleep in his bedroom.

And whether it's believed to be out of morbid curiosity, or a need to fix things, _he _will know in his heart, that it's all for her.

_Always _for her.

He's understands that there is pain coming, pain he will cause and of course she deserves her mother's case to be solved. She's been through enough things that he will forever blame himself for. Since the moment he looked into her mother's case. In the very beginning.. before he knew her...

But, Kate Beckett is still the same woman he's steadily begun to know.. to love. She's still the strong, stubborn detective. But it's the betrayal that has gotten him twisted up inside.

His betrayal.

As angry as he was, he knows she has a right to be angrier, that she _will_be. Castle shakes his head, trying to push away the negative thoughts. Love has gotten them through a lot and he has to have faith in her.

He _does _have faith in her.

His eyes dart back and forth between the pictures that fill the board, moving them with a shallow brush of his fingers as he rearranges suspects. Castle sighs and shakes his head, again, tapping on the motives section and dragging the words, spreading his fingers so they enlarge and he can re-read them.

He needs her to see these things, the conclusions he has drawn. He aches to share them with her and hear her input. _Togethe_r, the way they do it best. And he will. In the morning when they can sit over coffee and he can explain, or try to, when he can attempt to balance the betrayal with love and devotion.

He sighs again as he starts to read the next file. Castle knows them by heart, but he carries on anyway. Each line causing the pain in his chest to intensify. He stands, mouthing the words that started out as clues and leads and possibilities, now they are dead ends and repetition.

They will cause pain and anger, they will bring crystal clear memories of things he would rather forget straight to the front of her mind. They stir and poke at his conscience. But he doesn't stop.

When Castle reaches the last line in the box, closing the endless stream of seemingly useless information and his finger lands on her. Her picture enlarges, moving to the forefront of the entire board.

Johanna Beckett, her face frozen forever in a smile eerily similar to the woman now sleeping in his bed. He taps at it again until it fills nearly the entire screen before he steps back, staring.

Every time he looks at this picture, set upon a morbid slab of grey and black, surrounded by death and tragedy, he imagines inevitably, Kate's photo plastered here. The same reason her mother's face stares down at him, the same fate could so easily have befallen her.

He feels his heart falter, just for a fraction of a second the beats stutter out of rhythm, and at the same time, he hears the sharp intake of breath behind him.

Castle closes his eyes, denying the possibility even as the soft scent of her fills the room and he turns. He pushed his luck too far, he woke her from their first night together and dragged her into a living nightmare with no idea of how fully, wholly and completely he has been lying to her, but it's hardly relevant now.

She stands, silhouetted in the doorway of his bedroom, the meager light from his nightstand pooling in ever deepening puddles around her feet. It casts shadows over her face, the long line of her legs. It draws his attention to her eyes, eyes that shine too brightly in the darkness.

She's clearly been standing quite a while, her hand gripping the hem of his shirt. He moves towards her then, a thudding step as realization dawns. She woke alone in his bed, stumbled from it bleary eyed and cold, throwing on the first thing she found, the dress shirt she had so painstakingly slowly peeled from his skin the night before. All her memories of their night together wrapped up in a piece of material. And from the look that burns in her eyes, he has tainted it all.

She's been standing so still she's unsure if she's been breathing. Dragging air into her lungs she refuses to meet his gaze, staring instead over his shoulder at the face that looms. The spectre in the room.

She had been so lost in his attentions, watching his movements as he determinedly went over all the facts, things she hasn't seen herself, things she had never been aware of. And yet here they are, each line and piece of new information for her ignorant eyes to look upon with denial.

Whether she's ready to or not.

She was so lost in all the information, the way he stood so firmly and aggressively in front of it, she almost missed it when her mother's face became the center of his attention. She saw the way he breathed in a ragged breath. It was heartbreaking and all together defining. Because it wasn't a breath of anger, or frustration. But an inhale from a man intent upon his deadly task, absorbing the pain for her and forging ahead. When he had turned, she saw it there in his face.

His eyes show her the safety he tried to bestow on her by keeping this a secret. But, staring past him at a photo of her own mother, rises such anger in her. A hurt she never thought he could make her feel. The betrayal not just to her, but the heart she had so carefully guarded.

She turns, ignoring the way his voice quivers when he calls her name. Dawn is breaking as she stumbles through the loft, but it's midnight in her heart and the world is black again.

She forgoes shoes pulling the door of the loft open wide and stepping through it. Not caring enough to close it behind her, not feeling because somewhere inside she knows the pain will crush her.

Kate just needs to distance herself from everything.

"Kate!"

The echo of his voice reaches her as she steps into the elevator, her eyes finally rising to meet his when he slams into the closing doors. Whatever he sees there knocks him back, the colour draining from his face. And she watches with a morbid sense of satisfaction as he reaches out, his mouth open wordlessly, and she turns from him.

Good.

The descent is a blur and she steps out onto the cold sidewalk. She doesn't look back as she storms down the deserted street. She will not break and she refuses to run away like she has done something wrong.

Like a damsel in distress.

Her anger keeps her upright and her determination not to give in drives her forward. Outwardly she looks the same as always, a force to be reckoned with, the effervescent Katherine Beckett.

Inside, she is a raw crumbled mess. The walls are down and she has no protection, everything has been decimated. She shakes with it, the pain, the timid truth of the Kate she wanted so much to _be,_is cracking and falling apart on the streets of New york.

She doesn't get very far before she hears her name being called again, and then the heavy breaths of Castle as he himself hits the cold air of the city. She hears his weighty footfalls as he jogs to catch up to her, calling all the while.

"Kate, stop!" He begs, not even caring that his voice carries on the wind, a painful cry edged with heartbreak as he pleads. He chases her down, following her as he always has, his out of breath calls falling on seemingly deaf ears. "Kate... stay...with me...please."

She stops, fists his shirt so tightly in her hands that it hurts. She doesn't want to stop, she can't.. she shouldn't, but the sound of her name on his lips, it brings back the image of the night before, when it left his mouth in a gentle caress across her skin. Along with the agony of his pleas as she bled to death in the grass.

"Kate?"

Just her name, and it elicits so many emotions in her.

It's the agony now etched in his words that ceases the beating in her heart for just a moment. She lets out a heavy sigh, her shoulders sagging ever so slightly.

He takes that as a sign, "Please, let me explain." There is a hint of hope in his voice.

Kate closes her eyes for a moment at her own sense of hope. Something she will always hold onto no matter what. Only now, she can't hide behind it, she needs to clear the air however painful. "I'm tired of explanations, Castle." She finally says into the odd silence of the sidewalk.

_Castle_. He closes his eyes as the bluntness of her voice, the lack of emotion, ricochets through his chest. He's been reduced to the Castle of old. The formal and the distant. He can no longer conjure her voice, the soft curl of his first name, breathily leaving her lips on a hum.

She breaks the spell by uttering his name as though it no longer holds meaning and the moan of desire and need when she had clutched at his naked flesh to anchor her, turns to ash in his memory.

"I know." He says truthfully, because he is too. He's tired of talking, of the pain they cause one another when he knows how easily they could make each other happy. Last night was too brief a glimpse to risk forever on. He wants _more _and as tired as he is... the explanation is needed to get them back to where they should be.

The _start _of them.

Castle steps back, dragging a hand through his hair as he waits for her to speak, and when she doesn't he sighs, readying himself.

She stands ever so still, waiting, always waiting for something. She can hear him take in a breath, the words about to spill from his mouth, and she cannot turn to listen. She expects to hear his reasons, ones she thinks she already knows. But what she does not expect, is the screech of tires, and the sudden smell of burning rubber.

It happens so fast. The sound of a door sliding open, and then a scuffle. Her name dies on his lips and she turns towards the cry of desperation only to be met with the sight of a dark van disappearing into the distance and an empty sidewalk.

* * *

**So what are your thoughts on our theory?**


	2. Theories Two and Three

**Theories are thought out and sometimes incredibly consuming for hours on end by myself, and my partner in crime kimmiesjoy. **

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**Castle Theories 2 & 3  
**

She stirs the cup of coffee slowly, her eyes narrowed as she focuses through the small gap in the blinds. She's inherited a team, a working and cohesive unit that functions annoyingly well with her limited input, and she watches them ever so carefully behind closed doors.

But despite the actual reason for her placement in this office, she is the villain in their eyes. She can't blame them, not for what this office had once represented to them.

For whatever game is afoot here, she's been so meticulously placed in this role to be their watchmen.

It's not easy, this part she has been forced to play, protective and mistrusted all at once. She is uncertain of the bigger picture, because it is not her hands that guide the pieces. She is moved and manipulated as easily as the rest of them, Because she is merely a pawn in the eyes of the ultimate player.

Whomever that may be.

Although she is to keep them in line for their own good; her guidance goes unwanted, but railing against her brings them closer. This team she stands watch over, they work better when they work against her, so she leads them from afar. She will be the black knight that they fight against as long as it keeps them a cohesive and dedicated unit, back to back guarding each other.

They bicker like children, this self-made family and they resent her presence. They tiptoe around her orders, flouting her authority. And yet, It doesn't force her from her task, their safety is always her main concern. And as she looks upon them, that damn writer handing her lead Detective another cup of coffee.

The silent matriarch hiding away in her office knows that it's really _Becketts_safety that is the mission here...

She's been tasked with a job half finished and another unknown. To save that woman from herself as her predecessor tried and failed to do, sacrificing his life in the process. With his death comes her second job, the reason she is here.

She sighs, watching the antics of the men as they rib each other, teasing and joking over the case. She's about to intervene when Beckett snaps, tapping the board and getting them back in line. She watches the young woman for a few seconds before she moves and presses at the door clicking it shut.

They were so used to an open door policy before she arrived. Now, if one of them were to walk in on her, it could be deadly, so she remains vigilant. They fear her cold stares and the icy barrier she erects, safeguarding her privacy. Not one would dare to enter without knocking, the recriminations too great, too threatening.

Just as she planned.

She has a background in suspicion. Coming from a division looked down on by the rest, the mistrust and the glares of angry Detectives slide off her with years of practiced detachment. It doesn't bother her in the slightest. In fact, the distance they keep her at allows her to work quickly and quietly without interruptions, without developing bonds that could end badly.

The phone at her desk rings, loud harsh tones, on time as usual, and she sits down heavily at her desk. Lifting the receiver to her ear she barks, "Gates." Then, as required, she grows silent and she listens.

He must think it's so easy, the voice at the other end that separates them. He doesn't know what it's like to draw the team away from avenues of investigation that will get them killed. But _he_isn't faced with their seemingly daily death-wish.

They hurtle like unknowing children head first into danger and it takes everything Gates learned in Internal Affairs, and every scrap of information she has secretly gathered from her time here as Captain, has put her one step ahead. And in this task she has been given she is barely able to catch their coat tails and drag them back from the traffic they run into.

Gates shakes her head as she listens to the man on the phone "Sir, with all respect." She bites out between gritted teeth, "Short of suspending Beckett I have _no way _to keep her from going after this guy..."

She scrunches her face against the tirade of abuse she receives "Yes I realize that, but now they have the name..."

"Of the sniper?" Mr. Smith asks calm and collected as always.

"Yes, sir." She replies curtly.

"And our dear Mr. Castle led them to him?"

She grits her teeth. " Yes... but I didn't _know_ he was investigating..." She drums her fingers on the table. That damn interfering writing is the cause of her irritation _yet _again. The man is a nuisance, a hindrance and far too good at what he does... but he's going to get them all killed.

Mr. Smith clears his throat. "Keep a close eye on that one, I would hate for one of our pawns to make the wrong move. Do you understand?"

"I wasn't aware I would have to babysit a man child with a macabre yearning for danger Sir. He's an unknown entity..."

"Castle stays, Victoria." The man scolds. "I know who he is, and that is all that matters." His words are finale despite the levity in his tone.

Gates nods her head however disapproving she is of the writer. "Yes, but sir, they are getting too close. Once they link the sniper to the dragon...then it's all over. You and I both know, as well as Roy did himself, that she will run _straight _at him."

"Then suspend her."

"On what grounds?" Gates barks in shock, standing and making her way back to the peeping window.

"You'll find a way. She is too ruled by her emotions when it comes to her mother's case, put her in the right situation and she will dig herself a hole."

"I thought the point was to keep her _out _of danger?"

"It is. You're telling me she hasn't broken any rules? She hasn't _crossed _any lines and given you ammunition?"

"She's always crossing lines." Gates lifts her head and stares again through the blinds of her office and out into the bullpen. Beckett sits at her desk, looking down at the coffee cup she holds too tightly. She's crossed lines alright, especially when it comes to the man who sits across from her.

"_Recently _Victoria," He spits out, drawing her attention back. "I'm surprised I have to spell this out for you."

Gates sighs, Smith having such authority over her in her own precinct is degrading. "There was something... I just got the written report this morning." She returns to her desk, pulling a stack towards her stubbornly as she sits.

"Well, what is it?" He's growing impatient and his tone is making her feel uneasy.

She flips open the file on a the very top of the stack. A case the team had a few days ago involving a Detective Slaughter. She puts on her glasses, leering down at the page as she skims. Her heart quickens. "Seems Mr. Castle was in possession of a non certified weapon."

"Did she give it to him?" Now his voice rises subtly with hope.

Gates tips her head up, looking through the bottom of the lenses. "No."

"But she _is_in charge of him isn't she?"

"Yes, sir." She holds off reading him the rest of the report but something in her voice betrays her.

"Was there something _else, _Victoria?" He will brook no insolence and no silence. She cannot refuse to answer, because she is backed into a corner yet again.

"It seems Mr. Castle was injured during the course of the case."

There is a satisfied sound of agreement before Smith lets out a steady breath. "Then I would say that is _all _the incentive you need."

"But sir-"

"Make it happen, and make sure he goes with her..." There is a pause on the other line for a few moments and she is almost certain he has finalized their discussion by hanging up.

She nearly jumps from her seat when his blase voice asks the one question he always makes sure to inquire every phone session. "How is their dynamic these days? I know you had expressed the _slightest _concern for their partnership."

_Concern_. She wants to laugh except it's not funny. The disruption in their odd pairing has completely thrown off the balance of the entire department. She hates to admit it, but when they are in sync, collaborating and in tune, they are a force to be reckoned with.

"It's reached an impasse, there is a tentative reconciliation, but nothing like they were before."

"He remains distant?" He inquires further, curious and yet, somehow pleased.

She can hear the hope in the man's voice, feeding into it as she answers."Yes Sir."

"Good." He breathes out, sounding relieved before he continues. "Then see it done, I want a progress report by the end of the day and I expect them _both _out of the line of fire when we next speak."

There is a click, and her ear is filled with dead air as he actually does hang up on her. Gates with her hand still on the receiver now placed sharply in the cradle, stares down at the report in front of her. She sighs, mentally preparing herself for the fight she is about to encounter. She knows that woman won't go easily, the fight too deeply ingrained within her.

Standing and removing her glasses, Gates makes her way to the door, the incriminating report grasped firmly in her hand. Pulling the door open loudly, allowing it to slam against the frame and get their attention, she pokes her head out. Looking down at the lot of them, peering at them over the tops of the glasses propped at the end of her nose.

"Detective Beckett?" She asks the woman who's been staring at her coffee cup for quite some time. Gates voice does not betray her. In fact, it's slick with poise and authority, all of which she had been lacking just moments ago.

Her _boys _look over at Beckett, their heads snapping in her direction so quickly Gates is surprised neither of her lackeys have experienced severe whiplash. She watches, with very mild amusement as a what-did-you-two-do-now? look crosses both their faces as they tilt their heads at one another.

"Now." Gates finalizes, pushing her glasses back up. "Not you, Mr. Castle." She then says as he sinks back into his seat just as Beckett tosses him a worried look. Gates then swiftly moves back into her office and waits for the offender.

She is back behind her desk when Beckett enters. The woman's eyes burn with mistrust and barely concealed hatred as she turns and closes the door behind her.

Gates takes a steady breath before she taps the report in front of her "Care to explain this Detective?"

Beckett's face scrunches in confusion "Sir?"

"The callous disregard for safety and the sacredness of human life that was put in _your _charge. They no longer hold meaning with you I see Detective."

Beckett's mouth falls open before her eyes narrow and she bites out each word as it leaves her mouth "I have no idea what you are referring to..._Captain._" The rank leaves her lips an expletive.

It's a shame they stand at odds, the young Detective reminds Gates of herself, and if it wasn't for circumstance she could have taken over more than just the protective role of Roy Montgomery.

But they _do _stand on opposing sides and Kate Beckett's safety is paramount.

"Whilst under the supervision of one Katherine Beckett, Mr. Richard Castle was allowed to shadow a..." She peers low in her frames, "Detective Slaughter. During the course of his investigation Mr. Castle, an _untrained _civilian," She says, looking at Beckett as she says so. A point which she has made countless times. "Was given access to a weapon. He falsely declared himself a member of the NYPD and was injured chasing down a suspect." Gates looks up from the report, "Now explain to me Detective, how you let this happen?"

Beckett seethes with barely constrained anger. "How _**I**_ let this happen?" Kate's voice wavers further on the edge of yelling."I hardly think the actions taken when he was not in my presence are _my _responsibility. I was not the one who signed off on him shadowing Slaughter. _Sir_."

"Excuse me?" Gates asks, appalled as she stands from her desk, whipping her glasses from her face and leaning forward with both hand on either side of the desk. "What are you implying?"

Gates can see that Beckett senses a trap. She's made a wrong move with her outbursts and now she watches as the young Detective stands frozen not sure how to proceed.

"That's what I thought." Gates replies smugly standing straight and repositioning her glasses. "As regulations follow, Detective Beckett." Gates picks up another document, reading it over and then peering at the headstrong woman before her over the rim. "You are hereby suspended from active duty."

Kate opens her mouth, body going stiff.

"Hand in your badge and gun, and leave the precinct immediately." She stares her down, waiting on the stubborn woman now with her hand possessively at her service piece. "It's that, or your shadow goes back to his book parties and his lunch dates."

Gates sees the pain flash deep in the detective's eyes before she turns her head to look through the blinds. The Captain follows her conflicted gaze to the man in question, whose attentions are anywhere but this office and it's happenings. Distracted by his phone, which he talks animatedly on.

"Which is it?"

Beckett closes her eyes, her fingers falling to the hem of her jacket. She moves it aside and pulls the badge free from her belt, holding it in her hand as she stares down, the weight too heavy in her hand and she casts her eyes out into the bullpen again, to her partner. As Gates watches in fascination, he points to the phone and mouths 'sorry, Alexis' and shrugs.

Beckett reaches behind her and unclips her service piece. Her eyes remain locked with Gates as she does, only deviating when she checks the safety and removes the clip. Laying both flat on the desk, her eyes are bright before she smiles. Turning on her heel she launches her badge over her shoulder, slamming the door on her way out.

Gates watches as the figure of a determined woman passes by her window, an ever so slight curve of her lips as Castle gets up, and follows her out of the precinct.

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**How many of you agree?**


	3. Theory Four

**Castle theory #4**

"_All that we see or seem_

_Is but a dream within a dream."_

The sun beat down on him, breeze ruffling his hair as he marched to the morbid drum beats in the early morning. He'd read about them, even written a few over the years, but a police funeral for someone you knew, admired and loved was eye-opening, and heart wrenching. He's touched they allowed him such an honor, walking with them side by side, their team, no, their f_amily_coming together in grief...

She stood, regal in her uniform diagonal from him, Esposito at her side, and Ryan right behind her. Heads held high as they marched with their fallen comrade. The man they looked on as a father and they now bear him to his eternal resting place, united in silence once again.

The casket was heavy, _final_in his grasp as he looked ahead, watching her through the cover of his sunglasses. He witnessed, perhaps for the first time, how steely she could actually be, even though on the inside, he knew she was tormented. And yet, as they lowered their fallen knight, the red and white stripes brilliant, offering up their warning in the sunlight, she moved to the podium with stoic poise.

He took his place at her right side. Positioned as he always had been, whether she'd known it before or not. But as he listened to her speak, her steady voice echoing throughout the cemetery, she spoke of the battles. He was reminded of the wars they fought together, next to one another, and sometimes against each other...

And if he had ever denied her sense of where he stood with her, the moment she looked over at him, was the awakening. She had spoken directly to his soul.

It was then he knew that _always _was a not a sword which they could wield. Not the weapon of the heart that they both have so easily used to defend one another. But the stone they would pull it from.

As she continued on, he looked across the cemetery, the wind at his hair and a new sense of where he stood. For a brief moment he had thought that nothing could take that from him. Until he saw a glimmer in the distance, and his heart sank rapidly when he realized that there really are no victories. Because in the quick battle there on the green grass of the cemetery, Richard Castle threw himself in front of the other piece of his heart.

When they crashed to the ground, his thoughts only on her safety, it took him a moment to realize the ungodly pain in his chest. His eyes grew wide, the words gurgled for release at the back of his throat as her beautiful face looked upon him with tears in her eyes.

"Stay with me, Kate " He said, her hand coming up to cup his face.

"Don't leave me, Please," She begged of him.

He could feel himself fading, slipping into the blackness they have always fought against.

"Stay with me, okay?" She was frantic, bordering on hysterical with her white gloves now coated in his blood.

"Kate," He choked out, and she leaned in to listen over the uproar behind them. But it didn't matter anymore. Not with him on the ground bleeding to death, and he could see her devotion in her eyes. " I love you, Kate." He had said, watching a solitary tear slip down her cheek as one blazed its own wet trail from his dying eyes.

He would never know her answer, as the pain overtook him and his eyes slid closed, consuming him in darkness..

* * *

Awareness floods in around the edges, light and noise and the thudding, pulsing beat of his heart. The pain in his body is so unbearable, that it causes him to draw in a deep lungful of air, harsh and loud before he gasps. His eyes open, wide and frozen with fear, his hand flying to his chest as he looks around. Castle jerks into a sitting position, gathering his breath as it comes in harsh pants.

He turns, looking down beside him at the bed, trying to quieten his breathing further and not disturb his bed-mate. She seems so peaceful, eyes closed in sleep and her hands folded across her lap.

She looks just like he's always imagined she would. Waking up to her every morning, hair swept messily, and yet beautifully across his pillow. Her face is always turned towards him, the light from the window sneaking in to flit across her naked back. And he would watch her as she slept, as he does now.

But his eyes do not see the glaring sun peeking through the curtains as they try to sleep. Not the soft sounds of her breathing, but the steady beep of a heart monitor confined by stark white walls of a hospital room.

Castle lets his eyes roam her body, still and so small in this bed. if it wasn't for the rhythmic beep of her heart monitor, he'd think she wasn't here. The woman who has always commanded his attention whether she knew she was or not.

It's mid-morning, he can see, from what little light filters in through the blinds of her room, none of it reaching her where she lays, it barely reaches him. He turns his face away from it, aware now of another body in the room, more full of life than the one beside him.

She sleeps, surrounded in sunlight, curled on a couch on the other side of the room, his little girl, even though she's not so little anymore. Her feet hanging over the end of the small couch and a blanket thrown over her haphazardly.

As he blinks himself awake, more of the room comes into focus. The small table by the window, a door to a bathroom, and the flowers on every other surface. A deck of cards and a chess board, game not yet finished, sits on the table, with copious amounts of empty coffee cups. He lives in this room, the one he got just for her...even though he knows, that if she could protest, she certainly would.

It's bad enough that one of them lives a frozen existence, she wouldn't want him here too, but he won't leave. He's abandoned his office, his writing, and the smart-board. He has even left his family to spend time here, though they follow, clinging just as tightly as he does to the hope that she will awaken.

He knows that his mother and daughter have adopted Kate into their family. He's often times walked in on them talking to Kate. Filling her in on how _he _is doing, the cases he stills sits in on sometimes to keep himself busy. He even caught Alexis telling her about his smart-board. The investigation of Kate's shooting. His mother muses about how she just wants her son to be happy, and that if she would only wake up, could see how he feels about her, than maybe they both could be happy with each other.

He hopes, god does he hope that she hears all this. But more than anything, he wishes that it didn't have to be this way. That he wasn't sitting in this room day after day, month after month. That he will one day wake up, and all of this was just a horrible nightmare.

"Should have been me." He says combing a hand lightly through her hair, caressing the side of her face. He refuses to lose hope as he leans over her, tucking a single stray strand of hair behind her ear. He doesn't understand how they continue to escape from the thick plait, that winds now longer than before across her chest, when she herself stays so still.

Her eyelids flutter of course, they say there is activity still strong and life affirming within her unconscious mind. But the woman who remains impassive in this sterile room, lacks the essential spark that makes her Kate.

He misses her voice, and her laugh.

Castle runs his fingers gently along the edge of her hairline, his thumb soothing a path across the slight crease in her forehead. He leans forward and replaces the digit with his lips, inhaling lightly as he does. He misses her smell.

The sterility of hospital chemicals and generic soap lingered here too long, until he insisted someone bring her things from home. Lanie took over then, her able hands guiding their way through the thick mane of her hair. It doesn't matter though, because it's not Kate's hands that twist through her hair, not her lips pursed in concentration as she fixed it so perfectly behind her head, telling him to stop staring because it's creepy.

He pulls back slowly, his eyes closed as he waits the few seconds he always allows for her response to his kiss. Nothing. He sighs and leans away to find the chair, where he left it yesterday, before he pulls it to her side and sits down.

"I never thought I would see you again." Castle says. A whisper deep and mournful in his throat, the words he utters every time he looks upon her. Each day he wakes and finds her still here, still clinging to life, a miracle.

They are interrupted then, as is their habit even in this frozen state, as Dr. Burke and Dr. Smith enter the room, making their rounds. Castle moves away from the bed, nodding at both as he reluctantly leaves her side.

"More bouquets I see, planning on opening a flower store?" Dr. Burke asks with a kind smile as he moves to Kate's bed picking up the chart.

Dr. Smith says nothing, forever mysterious in his white coat, and unreadable face. The only time he does speak, is to give Castle vague answers to desperately sought questions. Even now the men just circle, clipboards raised and test sheets ready. He knows the ritual now, he payed for it, the continual care and attention she needs. Anything for her.

_Always_.

Each man takes up a side of the bed and they start to run checks, ticking things off as they go.

Heart rate.

Blood pressure.

Kidney function.

Liver function.

Some other tests that he stops listening to because he knows the list by heart. Castle sits beside Alexis, who stirs rising from sleep to stare out of the window as the myriad of medical words and phrases wash over them in an endless and useless stream of information.

He ignores their chatter, losing himself instead in fantasy, a safer existence than the reality. Alexis leans into his side, as if imagining a more lively Kate along with him.

He pictures Kate, at her desk as he hands her a coffee, a soft smile on her face as she tilts her head and gives him a loving look of appreciation. If she can exist in a dream world, so can he.

He moves through the images in his head, imagining her now in a long black dress, absent of her bullet scar with her hair piled on her head. She smiles and flirts shamelessly, a twinkle in her eye as she navigates the room of some swanky function. Maybe undercover, he smiles, she would kill him for that, undercover Beckett gets to play.

He realizes someones talking to him and he turns, the Doctors' both watching him expectantly.

"I'm sorry." He says with a fake smile and both men nod.

"There are spikes in the brain function test Mr. Castle that indicate a mild improvement." Dr, Smith says.

Castle nods, he doesn't get excited, he's been here before, things rise, they fall, fluctuating constantly as she remains impassive and still.

"Dad?" Alexis asks, resting her chin on his shoulder and looking at him for answers.

"She's the same pumpkin..." He says, voice trailing off as if he's lost a bit of his hope.

Alexis takes both his hands in hers. "What are you afraid of?" She asks.

"Can you leave us alone now please?" He asks quietly. Ignoring both men, he gets up from the couch, trying to ignore his daughter's question; afraid of the answers as he sits once again by Kate's side.

Alexis stands as the door clicks shut, looking sadly at her father before speaking the truth he doesn't want to hear. "That she won't wake up, or that she will?"

A pang enters his chest, and he bows his head, runs his fingers softly along Kate's arm. "What if she doesn't remember?" He asks helplessly, watching each rise and fall of her chest.

"She'll remember everything." The young girl rests a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "I'll go get you some coffee." She then says, turning away and leaving her father alone with Kate.

"Lanie said she would stop by again later," He smiles softly at her, trying to push past his small moment of doubt. "She seemed to think you need another girl talk, apparently you're not listening to her advice." Castle leans forward bringing her fingers to his face as he looks at the individual digits, playing along each finger softly with his own. "I asked her to put in a good word for me, talk up my case, you'd tell me if she didn't right Kate?" He squeezes her hand again. "Partners."

The moment his squeeze slackens, her hand loosens and falls from his grasp onto the bed. He asked her to stay with him, ten months ago when the sniper fired a round straight through both of their hearts, he begged her to stay. And she did. So there is no way he will leave her side. Lost wherever it is she lingers, just out of reach. He will remain here day after day until she wakes up, until she comes back to him.

He smiles softly as he squeezes her hand again and draws it to his lips. Kissing gently across the back of her hand, before turning her curled fingers over and laying his lips to the beat of life that echoes in her palm.

"I know I know," He jokes "I'm taking liberties but it's been ten months...I think one kiss and a little hand holding are allowed. Right?" He waits, then shakes his head as if she continues to tease him "Still so quiet. I'm going to start to think you like the sound of my voice. You wouldn't want that would you? After all the times you told me to shut up."

His voice cracks, his tone changing from levity to desperation "Tell me to shut up Beckett." He pleads. "Kate? Tell me to shut up okay?"

Of course she doesn't, and after a few seconds of staring at their joined fingers he smiles softly at her "Still so stubborn." He shakes his head again.

Swallowing thickly he starts out as he always does reminding her of the cases. "So I told you how we battled the tiger, I know right who would have guessed? The ghost case was a little far fetched but you liked that one I think, I let you tease me. Hmm superheroes we did, headless corpses, Ryan's wedding," He sucks in a steadying breath "I can't believe you missed that actually."

Castle clears his throat, he's not here to be sad and depressive. He's here for Kate, to guide her back. "Oh and a dog show. Royal was cute."

"And I wouldn't let you get another one." Alexis voice nearly makes him jump. She stands by the door, two coffees in hand.

"Kate would have liked him...he seemed to like her.." He says, rubbing the back of her hand.

"Yea after you snuck him in here, he nearly licked her face off." She walks over to the table and sets the coffees down by the chessboard.

They both laugh remembering the animal healers, the canine medical unit that he had researched. The website and advisers had suggested in some cases, advanced cases with little hope of change, an animal could reach through the darkness with more success than Doctors. Medicine could only go so far to help her and there was no way he was passing up the chance, anything that might work, he would try.

He leans forward, his elbow resting on the edge of her bed as he runs his fingers over the back of her soft warm hand again. "So Alexis." He asks, deviously. "What should our case be today?"

Alexis raises an eyebrow. "Something a bit more...exciting." She replies, shrugging her shoulders, her heart shaped face scrunched in giddy thought of another adventure.

Castle grins at her, turning back to Kate. "Today you and I are going to take on the forces of the undead!" He squeezes her hand willing her awake with every word, every silly joke and every ache inside his chest. "Don't laugh Beckett or I'll make you scream when you see a zombie."

"You're the one who screams Dad." Alexis shakes her head at him, "And please keep me out of the morgue for _that _case." She then adds poking a pawn on the chessboard.

"Only this once." But he says nothing further, his eyes fixed on the heart monitor across from him.

"Hey dad?" Alexis asks after a while.

"Hmm?"

"We never finished the game."

Castle looks over to see her staring down at the pieces that remain. "Bring it over." He says, patting the free space next to Kate 's hip.

She carefully picks it up, walking over and sliding it onto the sheets carefully. "Hey..." She says frowning down at it as she pulls up a chair. "How did you end up with only three pieces?"

Looking down at the board, he can see his white pawn placed between his king, and her queen, and then his rook, poised ready to take out her king if she was so inclined to move it. But they are so evenly matched, that the outcome is not foreseeable.

"Hmm." He says, wrinkling his brow and leaning forward, chin in his fist. Alexis had been winning, but the other remaining pieces on her side do not matter. The amount of pieces captured did not surmount to the most important move of the game, made by what could be the most powerful piece left on the board.

"Sometimes." A voice floats into the thick concentration of the room. A voice so ethereal that he _never_ thought he would hear again. "A well placed pawn... is more powerful than a king."


	4. Theory Five

**Kimmiesjoy and I don't look for theories...we hunt!**

* * *

**Castle Theory #5**

His home and even his office are the same from the last time she saw them, save the addition of a few new photos. She meandered through his office, looking around at his things, skimming her fingers along shelves and various positions. There are more books now, she noticed as she moved along, and she felt a pang of jealousy towards his new _muse_, the cop with fierce eyes and quick wit clearly _inspiring_.

She shook the thought from her mind, continuing through the rooms of his loft with focused determination as she sought what she was looking for, what she was _told _would be here. And when she found it, his study door ajar, she confidently pushed it open, stepping in to the vague familiarity of his work space. The place in which he created these other realities for himself...perhaps to escape. From what, she was still uncertain, or maybe it was him that was unsure of why he wrote such things...

It was right where she thought it would be, large and taking up the focus of the room. The blackness of the silent room was forbidding. And despite what loomed in the depths of his private investigation, the ramifications seemed to have escaped him. He was blinded, she thought, as she took the remote from his desk, flicking on the giant screen.

And like he must have night after night, standing in front of this thing, she found herself lost in the intricate web that had been woven. His brilliant mind had summoned patterns and nuances in detail many would miss. She had always admired him for that. But it was his mind, the things once only planned on paper, that worried her.

This was real life, and he couldn't just insinuate himself into the dangers of someone else's tragedies. Especially when he had no idea what he was getting himself into. No idea of how deep this actually went.

But, from what she could see, tapping at the victims on this web of mystery, the faces milling around, he had gotten quite deep. Her mouth opened in awe at the images blurring and rotating as she flicked through them until one more significant than the rest, caught her attention. Moving forward she clicked the image, enlarging it and making it central.

She stood staring at the face as she seemingly forgot why she was there. But in the back of her mind she knew she hadn't long until she would be interrupted. That he would return from wherever it is he went. Most likely off playing with that woman, his _new_toy.

Again she turned her mind away from that woman. At least she tried until she was met with the woman herself.

The image of a ghost.

A face she had seen before, the one who started this whole thing. And now it was staring down at her as if in judgment, watching her as she sought information that did not truly belong to her. She couldn't take the mocking way the intense eyes followed her, and so she tapped at it viciously, reducing it again, wanting it gone from her sight.

But she hadn't long and she'd wasted enough time staring at the woman he seemed so infatuated with and he would back soon, from his rendezvous with _her._

She picked up the smart board remote, turning it over in her hand and flipping off the back cover. She removed the batteries and pocketed them, sliding the micro receiver inside. It looked exactly like one of the batteries she replaced, functioned that way as well. She then checked to make sure everything was secure before sliding the cover back in place.

When she heard the key turn in the lock she realized that the board had held her attention longer than it should have. She froze, listening as the door opened and then closed. She quickly moved to the board, clicked it at the screen to check it still worked, and when it did she smiled, turning the board off again.

"Dad?" A young voice called out.

She kept level, moving efficiently at her task calmly as she was trained to do, checking the device she had attached to the back of the monitor. Then the one on his desk, all secure all hidden before she strode into his bedroom and closed the door just as his daughter stepped into his office.

She heard Alexis huff out a breath, mumbling something about hearing things before the study door slammed and not long after the teens feet thumped up the stairs.

She sighed, looking about her now, having escaped through his secret passage to his bedroom.

She had only been in this room once before, a long time ago. In a rush of heat and longing she had soon lost for him...Back when working with him had been a hindrance and something she was compelled to do.

Sneaking into his bedroom had reminded her of the one night they spent together and she grinned as she moved about it. With a perverse sense of pleasure she attached one last device to the bookcase opposite her, before she turned surveying the bed.

This is where she would wait for him.

* * *

_Three months later_

Kate stands at the murder board, clicking through the images on the screen. She has been there a while. Too long really as she stares as the repeated cycle of the same faces, the same clues.

She can hear the ragged and almost terrified breathing of Castle as he waits behind her. Kate hears him move, feels him draw level and watches, though not really because she is still cycling through the images in front of her, as he reaches for the remote in her hand.

"Bec... Kate?" His hand hesitates over hers as if he wants to take the remote away from her but she pulls it back "Can we... can you say _something_ please?" He watches her, like he always does, focused and riveted even as she stands silent and still.

Kate finally meets his eyes "I need..." She closes her eyes, squeezing them shut, knowing she has to ask it of him again, " I need time, Castle."

He opens his mouth, closing it when he realizes there is nothing he can say, no way he can deny her something so simple, and so painful. He nods moving back, leaning against the edge of his desk.

"I just...I need to look...to process." She watches his face, hoping he understands. She needs to stand and stare at the board the way _he_has for months on end, she needs the quiet and the calm of...not talking to absorb the enormity of everything he told her.

Mr. Smith. The phone calls, and the late night meetings. The danger and the conflict.

The game.

All of it.

"I need to think." She says honestly, glad when he meets her gaze at last and nods again.

"I.. sure yes. Thinking space.. and _time _I'll just..." Castle shrugs not knowing what to do with himself, how far to push and invade when he has already overstepped in ways she never imagined.

But it wasn't really overstepping, and she can see that. All those years ago when she asked him to be here for exactly _this._

"Coffee?" Kate asks suddenly, something normal, something tangible and them. They lost their rhythm with the everyday and mundane things she took for granted and with everything that has happened, all the events that will lead from this revelation... she just really wants him to bring her a cup of coffee like he used to.

She raises her head and Castle is stunned by the hope in her eyes, the worry he might turn down her request so he smiles "Coffee I can do."

He brushes past her as he leaves the office, his hand closing over hers to squeeze as he goes, fast and completely innocent and wonderful in its reassurance. She hears the soft click of the door behind her, waits until the waters starts running in his kitchen, and then lets out a sigh.

It's not of grief or anger, or frustration. But perhaps an 'I told you so.' to herself. Looking back at this intricate web of information, some she already knew, crafted herself, the rest a whole heap of detail, truth and conjecture that Castle has spent months gathering on her behalf.

Looking at all this now.. she cannot be surprised. He's done it before, in the very beginning, but this time he did it for other reasons.

He did it out of love. To protect her. And she can't be angry at him for it. Thinking back on it now, she had given him permission. She said so herself that she wanted him to be here for her when she finished this once and for all.

_What do you want to do?_Kate hears in her head. Thinking of her therapy session.

What Kate really wants to do is get over being hurt.

She can feel him behind her then, smell the coffee rising from the steamy cups, and she breathes in the scent of it, along with him. He's at her back, close enough to feel his body heat without him actually touching her.

Kate turns around slowly, eyes looking down at the cups of coffee in his hands. They travel, slowly up, jumping around his body until they rest in his eyes. Not dropping her gaze, she smooths her hand over his, taking one mug at a time and setting them onto the desk beside them. Once his hands are free, she guides one of them to her waist.

"What are you doing, Kate?" He asks as she pushes him back a little, hand moving up his chest until it cups the back of his neck.

"Shh." She breaths low as her eyes dart to his lips.

He visibly gulps, watching her free arm rise up holding the remote, and suddenly the smartboard clicks off, the room falling into darkness. The light flowing in from the rest of the loft casting over her face with gentle illumination, and he sees as she lets the remote slip from her hand. Castle vaguely registers the sound of the plastic hitting the floor before her warm lips are on him.

She pours her new found confidence in them into the kiss, her mouth moulding over his until she feels him respond. His hand snakes its way slowly from her hip to the small of her back, pulling her in more firmly, whilst the other moves to capture her face, her cheek, before finding its home in her hair.

There is no stopping this once it starts. She knows that, on some level she has always known that and clinging on tight she opens her mouth with a moan as his fingers find their way beneath her shirt.

They are so close to his bedroom and his fingers are splayed over the naked skin of her back. Goosebumps rising under his touch and she shivers as the heat envelopes her.

"This," she answers when his mouth finally leaves her, panting heavily to move to her neck "I'm doing this, we're...we..." His mouth closes over hers again drowning out the words and she nips at the edge of lip in frustration.

If he won't let her tell him, she'll show him.

Her fingers drop from his neck, linking over the buttons of his shirt as she presses into him. forcing him backwards and undoing his shirt as she goes, moving him towards the bedroom.

She can feel the falter in his step, the hesitation that they might be rushing and she ignores it, pushing ahead. She did everything she could to be more and now she wants _more._ And she wants it all, everything, with _him._

She's manic with it. The need that crashes over and she thrusts his shirt aside allowing her fingers to skim over his chest. Each muscle ripples under her caress, his breath hot and fast in her mouth with every step backwards.

When they collide with his bedroom door her fingers drop to his waist, catching at the belt buckle and his hands close over her wrists. He pulls her out of the kiss, heaving panting and lips red raw from his devotion. Her eyes are heavy, she can feel it, the lust weighing her down, dragging at her with the need to be closer to him than she ever has been before.

"We don't need to rush this Kate..." He says his mouth opening to launch into some great and noble speech.

She stops it all with one word, silencing him as it leaves her lips.

"Always." She moves then... closer still her hand over his heart, another at his jaw as she sweeps aside any latent doubt, any worry or fear he can have in her. It's the simplest thing in the world to soothe his face as she whispers again "_Always _Castle."

The glorifying smile that breaks across his face is rapidly replaced by an animalistic look of hunger. Keeping tight hold on her wrists he swaps their positions, growling into her neck as he kisses the skin, teeth scratching at her pulse making her arch into him.

"And the case." He groans, his mouth wet against her neck, when her fingers trail across his abdomen. He pulls one of her trapped hands away from his stomach, pinning it above her head as he starts to open the buttons of her shirt. She stifles a laugh when his fingers trail over her sides, but it cuts off abruptly when he reaches her bra.

He moves from her neck, to her jaw to her lips before he feeds from her mouth one greedy kiss at a time, drawing moans and shivers from her with each sweeping passing of his thumb across the black cotton.

"Together." She finally manages to groan, pushing him away, but pulling him tightly against her as they stumble into the sanctuary of his bedroom. She kicks the door shut after them, molding her body around his "We finish it together Castle."

Her mouth closes over his again as they stumble towards the bed.

* * *

_C.I.A surveillance unit._

He adjusts the headset, shifting uncomfortably in the seat as the backs of his legs start to go numb. Four hours of talking he has been listening to and it's all starting to get a bit tedious.

He hears the woman speaking again, her voice is kind of hot and he pays attention when she talks, listening to the pitch and quaver of her bedroom voice. He groans when she asks for coffee, he could really go for a cup right about now too. Or Something...

Silence looms through the headset, shuffling feet and he drums his fingers on the desk. There are some seriously boring aspects to this job and he can't wait until he moves away from this desk and...

"_What are you doing, Kate?"_

The man's voice is...different than normal, no anger no frustration, and he sits up in his chair pulling the mic closer to his ear.

"_Shh."_He then hears, drawn out in her sexy inviting moan and he wishes he was in that room right now.

"What's going on?" His partner asks, coming up behind him and taking a seat.

"Shut up, it's just about to get good." He replies waving a hand at the man now seated excitedly beside him.

A clatter, and then the sound of heavy breathing, a moan and both men look at each other like they just hit the jackpot. "Who are these people again?" The other guy interrupts the sounds of heavy kissing, small moans and probably wandering hands.

"That lady cop, Beckett, and the author Richard Castle."

"The ones who were here a few months ago?"

"Yea them, Shh. will ya! She's talking again."

"_I'm doing this, we're...we..." _

"They're what?"

The man's hand moves to cover his mouth "They're going at it." He hisses in shock to his colleague.

The other man's eyes open widely as he leans in to listen "Really?"

"About freaking time." He grumbles as he leans back. "I've been listening to theories and talking...and that writer whining to his mother for months. _Finally _it's getting good."

There's a loud thud. The sound of ragged heaving breath fills the small room where both men stand listening to the couple. "Dude, I think they just crashed into something, in his office right?"

"Yea, yea." He says hurriedly, waving his other hand for the man to be quiet just as Castle speaks.

"_We don't need to rush this Kate..." _Castle pants out.

Both men's eyes meet, one snickering and pulling faces at the desperation and want in the writer's voice. "yeah you do..." He whispers "ow!" He bites out suddenly as a fist collides with his shoulder. He looks over to find his friend's attention focused.

"SHHHH!"

"_Always Castle."_

Scuffling noises fill the room, more heavy breathing and the sounds of the woman moaning. Whatever he is doing she clearly likes.

He swallows thickly as he listens to the heavy pants and moans, the shuffling of cloth as one or other of them starts to strip. He hopes it's her, with the sexy voice, but his imaginings are interrupted but the author.

"_And the case."_the writer groans..

The man holds up his hand before his friend even dares to speak. This is it, what he has waited months and months to hear.

"_Together." _She says.

"What.. what did she say?" He looks to his colleague for confirmation, but he gets it from another source instead,

"_We finish it together."_

Wrong. Answer.

There is a beat, no longer than that of a thudding pulse, and the room is filled with the deafening sound of static. It echoes down the line, the connection severed now. Permanently, and he yanks the mic from his head. The crackle and hiss is so loud that it nearly deafens them both.

"What do we do?" The second guy asks. Looking at the mic in confusion, rubbing his head.

"It's...already been done." He replies, his eyes wide staring at their fallen mics.

* * *

Her eyes come into focus, slowly as she opens them. The smell of seared flesh and smoke filling her lungs. The room is thick with it, and she struggles to sit up, pushing aside books and what remains of the shelves that housed them. Part of the bed has fallen across her, managing to shield her from the blast.

Blast... it hits her then, as she finally makes it to her feet. Castle's Loft blew up.

Where the hell is he?

"Castle!" Kate yells out, surrounded by unbearable heat, fire licking at every corner of what's left of his office, the whole loft. "Castle!" She calls again, choking on the smoke as she tries to get up.

He does not answer.

His hand was in hers, mere seconds before everything turned to hell. She scans the room frantically coughing and calling through the heavy smoke. She covers her mouth, pulling her shirt more firmly around her as she yells.

"Castle!"

Everywhere is fire and falling debris. Papers alight with flames fluttering down in every direction, as if falling from the night sky that stares down at her.

Something blew a hole clean through the ceiling.

She gets to her feet, looking around for him. "Castle! oh, god please..." She trails off, stumbling over his bookcase and crumbling to her knees in the ashes by his bedroom door.

She ignores the bite of second degree burns on her hands, the ache all over her body as she grips at the door, heaving it up. She groans, biting back a hiss as the heat of the wood seers at her flesh before she releases it onto the ground beside her.

"Rick!" She falls to her knees at the sight of him. Flat on his stomach his eyes closed and his mouth open, a trickle of blood oozing from the corner of his lips. "Rick?" She sobs her hand falling to his neck to check for a pulse.

She stares at the angry, red raw burns across his back, skin mingled with the burnt material of his shirt and she is stupidly grateful that she never got as far as removing it completely. At least this way it offered him some meager protection.

She finds his pulse then, thready under her fingertips. It's hot and the fire is everywhere, drawing closer. She needs to move him, but his back is a mess of burns and cracked flesh, god his chest must be worse...she unbuttoned his shirt.

She hears the sob break past her lips as she drops closer, pressing her mouth over his ear, rising onto her knees.

"Castle, I have to move you..." Her voice cracks and breaks again "I'm sorry 'cos it's going to hurt."

Kate slips her hands under his shoulders preparing to hoist him up but as she moves him his eyes flutter open. The smoke is laying heavier over them now and she knows she's running out of time.

"Castle...oh god." Her thumb sweeps over his face, smearing blood across his lips as he coughs. "We have to get out of here Castle."

His lips move, but the crackle of the fire and sirens in the distance drown it out, she falls closer, determined to hear the words that could be his las...

His voice is shallow, pathetically quiet amongst the catastrophic noise of devastation that surrounds them, a broken whisper in the heat of the room. "Al...ways..."

His eyes fall shut and his head slumps back against the floor.

* * *

Kate gets out of her car, walking up the cobblestone drive. The grounds are vast, perfect green lawn, trimmed hedges along the root until she's standing there in front of his door. She can hear the sound of the ocean the waves crashing along the shoreline, almost inaudibly to the loud beating of her own heart.

She adjusts the two coffees in her hands, wincing as she tries to maneuver them in such a way, so she can ring the doorbell. Sighing, she blows a stray strip of hair from her face, blown playfully by the ocean breeze, and uses her elbow to press in the small button.

The door opens immediately revealing the young red head. "Kate." The girl greets, smile spread wide across her face. She goes to embrace her, stopping when she sees Kate's bandaged hands clutching at the coffee cups.

Kate shrugs her shoulders sheepishly. "How is he?" She asks when the girl relieves her of one of the cups, and ushers her inside.

"He's out on the deck." She replies vaguely. But Kate realizes there is no hint of anxiety still lingering in the teens voice. "How was the drive?" She then asks looking down at the heavily wrapped hands of the older woman.

"It was..." Kate brings the cup to her mouth raising an eyebrow. "Interesting...if not slightly painful." She replies following Alexis farther into the large house. She spots Castle through some glass double doors, the back of his head and his bare arms as he sits in a beach chair. "But who am I to complain..."

Alexis follows her gaze, letting a small smile crease her lips before it vanishes and she hands Kate the other coffee again. "He's been waiting for you." Alexis says with a wink, before skipping off into another room.

Kate walks to the door, sliding through the gap with a twist and a flick of her hair as the strong breeze from the sea meets her. She crosses the distance to his chair quickly, leaning over the back of it to press her mouth to his cheek.

"Hi." She says quietly, her lip dropping between her teeth and she smiles at the look of surprise that greets her.

"Kate?" He smiles shifting uncomfortably in the chair as he tries to sit up and greet her properly. He tips forwards, the burns covered in thick bandages that do little to protect him when he rocks against the hardback of the lounger. He hisses and watches as Kate winces at the sound.

"Don't make me restrain you, Castle." She grumbles, as she sets one of the cups down next to him and pushes him back into the seat.

"I don't think I'm quite up to handcuffs just yet Beckett." He says with a laugh as she rolls her eyes. He looks quickly towards the cup still in her hand before she can reprimand him. "Number?"

She smiles, always pleased when he remembers "Sixteen." She hands him the cup "Eighty-four to go." She grins at him when he looks affronted before moving and sitting the other side of the table, staring out across the deck and into the ocean. It rolls and pitches, rhythmically soothing as she breathes in time to the waves.

When she looks back she finds him watching her and she smiles again "So, picking up from yesterday?"

He nods smiling back. "Yeah, cards are on the table Kate."


	5. Theory Six

**Castle Theory # 6**

He smiled as she kicked off her flats and drew her knees up to her chest. Watched as she curls in on herself as she readied to spill more of her secrets. The contents of her heart, here in this sanctuary he had helped her build.

The shoes themselves he took for the sign they were. The evidence towards her defenses being down, no need for external armor. Her shoes flat negating the need for dominance and her hair pulled back from her face leaving her exposed. She has been open and willing, giving herself over to the healing hands of her Doctor.

It had taken a while for her to move past what she thought he _wanted _to hear and speak the truths she had kept hidden so long. It was longer still before she would react, forceful and burning bright with long denied emotion. Storming around the room with barely disguised frustration or caving in on herself and letting him see her cry.

She broke and re broke her heart on a regular basis, just so that she could set the pieces in proper order, the scared edges knitting themselves together again as she healed.

She didn't give in easily, didn't open up fast or without thought, but in unsteady and tentative steps, she took her time. And in that time, those hours, endless sessions of bitten replies she slowly allowed herself to truly _trust _him.

Only what makes this worse, is that she didn't know that week after week, session after session that she was being _watched. _That everything personal to her, was being recorded, and not in the way she would expect. The notes he amasses in ream after ream, even the digital recordings near the beginning. All devices to let her hear the truth she was so afraid of.

But there was more, for everything she did, everything she said...was vital.

The entire game revolves around her next move. Her decisions, her choices. And the moment she decides to take the king, it will all be over.

So they have to stay one step ahead. Anyway they can.

Even if it means eliminating a few of the pawns that stand in the way...not that he cared. But even Roy was valuable, and it was a shame to see him sacrifice himself.

Watching her now, as she talks about a current case, it's a violation of trust, and he knows that but he could be at an advantage here. Sitting and listening to her fears. Learning her weaknesses. He can use this against her. Push her into making a decision of the heart and make her let go of the one thing that has held her back.

Her mother's case.

But now it has become more complicated. She can't just let it go, even though she seems willing now. Because even if she did, there is still _someone_ close to her that could bring her back into it, and that could be _fatal._

He knows all about the odds they are at right now. He's glad of it, for it keeps her focused on something other than the move they are all looking out for. She's consumed by the longing in her heart, and all of her revelations should be leading to a proud moment for her.

For her love.

From what he has learned, it's not something she has ever truly exposed or embraced. That side of her she turned from at such a young age. And yet here it is. For him to see. The measure of her soul just waiting for them to cut open, leave raw. For the one thing that could save her, is also the thing that could also bring her down.

The one thing they _need _her to let go of.

The writer.

So now as she sits and talks of doubts and worries that she has waited too long, he nods and leads her, so trusting and broken as she was. She seeks the answers herself but she allows him to guide the way, and the conclusions she comes to...

Castle's not ready anymore.

He nods.

He smiles, and he can see she thinks it's because she's working through the issues and ideas and coming to her own conclusions. As if the therapy is doing what it's supposed to, giving her the tools to be better and more.

And maybe it is. He can see this once broken woman repairing. Becoming stronger. And maybe that is not good for him, for what his task is here. But maybe, just maybe, if he raises her hopes just enough.. he can use it for a harder fall.

This betrayal will decimate her confidence and all the work she has put in over the last 10 months, which is why she won't find out.

He asks her what she wants, waiting as she sits in silence, and when she finally speaks he leads her to the conclusion that maybe if she can't have him now, she should look for something, someone, else.

He needs to separate them before the writer fills her in on all the work he has been doing, before she starts to help him. Because they were watched a long time before this and the people with power have observed how well they worked together.

But the game must play out, the pieces moving in the a predetermined pattern. Dr. Burke has been charged with the task of keeping the Detective from upsetting things, before she upturns the entire board.

But even as she stands, he's still not sure if he's succeeded. If there is anything he has learned about Detective Kate Beckett, is that you cannot underestimate her. She could easily rise to the challenge. And the best he can do here, is make sure the challenge exceeds her abilities.

He waits for her to leave, their time up and her head full of contradiction and doubt. She thanks him and he wants to laugh. The most unfunny appreciation he has ever received, because as she works towards being whole, he chips away and breaks her apart.

He hears her greet the person in reception, an almost shy hello that sounds nothing like the defensive, and on occasion bitter woman that she used to be.

A man brushes past her and Dr. Burke greets the man as he enters, invites him into a chair and waits until he sits down. The invitation is perfunctory because _he_will sit where he wants, when he wants.

The man enters farther into the room slowly, looking behind him as he watches the last shred of her disappear around the corner before Dr. Burke closes the door. The therapist then strolls to the bookcase, thumbing through the various articles, magazines until he reaches a particular book that would normally seem out of place.

""How was the session?" The man asks, turning on his heels and regarding the therapist.

"Was..." Dr. Burke begins, handing the man a book. "Satisfactory." He then replies almost proudly, looking at the superior man. Although on the inside he feels a fraction of doubt.

"Good." He replies, flipping open the front cover.

There is more to this book than meets the eye. Not only is it strategically placed, but in the inside flap is a tiny device, which the man collects before reading the name on the inside flap.

To the authors adoring fans it's just another story. Just another feet of justice served to those who deserve it. They get theirs, and everyone goes home happy...

That's the beauty of a well written book. The psycho babble he can rattle off, when in reality. He's writing the real deal. These are not just plots woven from his imagination.

It's Truth.

Burke watches the man opposite him, turn the book over slowly in his hands. It's eerie in similarity to the young woman who has spent months doing the same thing. Clinging to the book and the promise it holds. The memories it evoked for her every time she thought back to where they had started.

"Notes?" The man asks, extending his hand for the intimate musings of the Doctor trained to get inside the head of Katherine Beckett.

Burke pulls the the folder from the table next to him, continuing to watch the steady rotation of the book. He can't help but wonder at the unfairness of a universe that would allow the thing that united them, the writer and his muse, to be the thing that could tear them apart.

A truth written, a truth hidden in words and plot.

For, somewhere buried in the depths of these pages are the heinous conspiracies no one should know about. And anyone who stands upon the board proud of their secrecy, of everything they thought they hid, the manner in which they took care of things..well they are in for a shock. For this meddling Writer tells all.

This book is not filled with fiction. For every made up story, there is a small amount of truth.

Burke closed the distance between the two of them, sliding the folder into the man's eager waiting hands. Breaking her trust and his Doctors oath in one fail swoop. Some secrets are best left uncovered.

The truth is a dangerous thing.

* * *

**ALTERNATE ENDING: Should Burke turn out to be evil! **

**Dr. Burke walks into his office, freezing in the doorway, unsure as a feeling of dread washes over him. Suddenly he is accosted and strapped to his chair, the place where he spent months pulling secrets from Kate, worming his way into her trust, before he broke her heart. It was there he was tortured with sharpened and dirty instruments, before Kimmie calls to Lizzie, who steps out of the shadows. **

**Walking closer she says "This is for Kate." Pressing the barrel to his head...**

**BANG THE END**

**Jackass...**


	6. Theory Seven

**A/N: SPOILER WARNING! This chapter contains spoilers from the promo and clips for epi 4x22 and stills from the finale epi of season four. There is also a companion oneshot to this story called "Eye of the Storm." That picks up from an intimate moment in this chapter. You can find it here: ****http:/www .** **fanfiction . net/s/8059180/1/The_Eye_of_the_Storm**

* * *

**Castle Theory # 7**

The once quiet neighborhood, with its fine houses and manicured lawns, was now fully disrupted this morning. Numerous police cruisers lined the front of one house in particular. The place Captain Roy Montgomery used to come home to.

Now it's as though the entire NYPD is out for the call. They arrive, their team, their family as fast as they can. Moving the minute they get wind of it. Having been out on a case when the call went out, and not fulling knowing exactly what was going on.

When they get there the street is already filled with squad cars and Kate starts to panic. She can feel that rising sense of desperation, deep in her chest and she barely waits for the car to come to a stop before she flings the door wide running from it.

The sight of police tape across the front of their former Captains house freezes them all in their tracks. The men stand in silence as they watch Kate, finally find her feet and stutter forwards.

"What happened?" Kate turns to Esposito and Ryan.

Ryan is the first to speak. "Someone broke into his home, and trashed his office."

"Evelyn, The girls? Are they okay?" Castle comes up behind her, his chest at her back. He hovers there and she calms almost instantly.

A look passes between the Detectives, one Kate catches but isn't sure of, but she lets it go, her attention focused on the fluttering police tape across Roy Montgomery's front lawn.

When they eventually make it into the house, they stay together, not wanting to separate in the home of their former Captain, seeking the security of each other. Their immediate family. They take in the devastation and chaos left behind by the person who appears to have gone through Roy Montgomery's home with a fine tooth comb, whilst his wife and children were still inside.

"Have you ever been in here?" Ryan asks, looking around at everything in awe.

Esposito shakes his head as Kate's phone buzzes in her hand and Evelyn steps into the room.

"Well." Kate says frowning down at her phone. "Doesn't look like anything was taken... was just his office right?" She then asks looking up at the widow.

Evelyn nods her head.

"Do you know what they might have been looking for?" Esposito asks kindly.

All three look up in confusion when Evelyn looks to Castle.

Her voice a low hiss, wary of who outside of their immediate group can hear her. "Did Roy contact you about the files...The robbers mentioned you...the case? Mr. Castle? Whatever it was that he was involved in, did Roy contact you?"

Castle shakes his head at her carefully, but not carefully enough.

"What?" Kate asks. Her head coming up from her phone and staring at the two of them.

"He...no he didn't." Castle says hand coming up to his face as Kate looks on.

Kate steps closer to him, her eyes narrowed as she stares him down. "But someone did? Someone contacted you right Castle?"

She can see the truth before he even has to open his mouth and confirm it.

"Castle." She asks. "What the hell did you do?"

* * *

Lanie walked slowly into the bullpen, the case files clutched tight to her chest. She stopped for a moment by the closing elevator doors as she took in her friends appearance. Kate was working frantically, hand flying across the murder board as she filled in the details on the murdered Veteran.

Lanie took a deep breath, striding towards the four of them, with confidence she didn't feel.

Kate turned mid sentence, smile falling from her face when she saw Lanie. She looked down at the files held tightly in her friend's hand before she spoke, "Is it my m..."

"It's the sniper, sweetie." She said quietly "The bullets are a match."

* * *

"Don't follow me Castle." She yells, pulling his door shut behind her with a loud bang. Her eyes feel hot and tight, but she refuses to cry. She refuses to let the insanity of his behavior get to her as she walks out of his building and out of his life.

He had taken Lanie's case files, and the months of evidence he had accumulated and spread it all out before her, raising her up like a sacrifice on the altar of all the fears of her heart.

He took everything and turned her world on its head, so she did the only thing she could to retain what was left of her sanity.

She walked away.

Somehow she finds herself outside her apartment. The units that had been assigned to watch her since they discovered the sniper are back, and they call out to her as she enters the building.

But Kate keeps her head down, forging ahead, alone as always.

She steps into the empty shell of the building, arriving at her front door in a blur. She flings it wide, barely waiting for it to close before she collapses against it, banging her head back hard, needing to feel something other than the aching pain that is ripping through her chest. She closes her eyes as she breathes through the pain, counting as she does so. Like she was taught to, to calm the racing of her heart.

When she opens her eyes she is almost blinded by a stark flash of light, some instinct beyond her training kicks in as she flings herself to the floor. A bullet rips past her head, slamming into the door behind her.

She stares at the hole in her front door, in the exact spot her head had been seconds before. In haste, she reaches behind her she draws her gun and rolls into a crouching position. The stairs to the balcony are behind her and the front door of her apartment in her sights, but she waits, in the stillness around her. Too still, too silent, and she carefully moves backwards, stepping lightly, eyeing over her shoulder while still keeping her attention on the door.

When her heel hits the first step, she breathes in deeply, feeling her pulse thump against the skin of her palm, pushing urgently against the metal of her service piece. She turns and slides back, stepping up the stairs, back to the wall and mouth slightly open as she forces herself to breathe evenly.

But the terror is rising and blocking her way.

The only place she can go, is outside, through the window and out onto the balcony, her rooftop garden, and into the air of a dangerous city.

With one glance back at the door, the hole in the wood, she slips out onto the balcony, back against the brick as she waits it out. Listening.

Still nothing.

Just the sounds of New York..

But wait.. What's that?

Her head snaps up, something moving around on the rooftop...

Tightening her hold on her gun, Kate looks down at the empty alley, and then up into the sky. Slow movements carry her to the ladder, arms stiff and aiming upwards, pausing, watching and listening to more sounds. She then lowers her arms, using one of them to hoist herself onto the ladder, and make her ascent.

The pain is less than it was the last time she attempted to climb a ladder, but something still lags, still pulls at her chest. She grits her teeth and pushes past it.

When she gets to the top, she lets herself hover there on the ladder, her head barely above the top ledge. A sound to her left, close... but close enough?

Rising up, she peeks over quickly, catching a glimpse of an empty rooftop. "Police!" She yells, hand clutched tightly around her weapon as the sound of running feet echoes out over the concrete expanse that stretches before her.

In one swift movement, Kate vaults over the ledge, her long legs kick out in preparation, landing in a crouched position exposing her to the open, and she dives to the side when a shot is aimed her way.

It hits the opposite wall, chipping the brick.

She hears the broken piece skitter, and all is silent.

She has to move. She's too much a target out here in the open and she turns scrambling along the rooftop looking for cover. She hears the air ripple as another bullet flies past her skull.

"KATE!"

The voice echoes across the roof and she sees the sniper turn in confusion from his hiding place behind an air vent. This is her chance, her one and only chance to take down the bastard who ruined her life.

She launches herself the short distance between them, colliding harshly with his body, his elbows at her ribs. The pain takes her by surprise, aching fire across her scar and she loses her gun.

Hearing the clang of metal as it flies away from her she changes tactics, fisting her fingers tight she punches him square in the jaw, the force sending his head back with a snap. She then wraps her hands around his neck rolling him away from his weapon.

There is a thud, pain through her skull when he rolls them again, knocking her head into the concrete. She raises her knee, kicking out aggressively her fingers aiming for his eyes.

But her head is swimming and he's faster.

He knocks aside her hands going for her throat and her hands struggle between them.

She's losing, she can feel it. The end of her life coming in violent bursts behind her eyes, blood vessels exploding in brilliant color, stars and pain.

His fingers tighten around her neck even more, cutting off the last bit of oxygen. His evil eyes staring down at her, face twisted in hate and duty. He has a mission and he will carry it out to the bitter end.

There is a click, the heaven sent sound of a gun being cocked and she looks up through the reddened blur in hope. Castle stands a few feet away, her gun in his hands, aimed at the snipers back as he continues to choke the life out of Kate.

"Don't even think about it." Castle seethes, no longer concealing his rage as he presses the barrel into the back of the assailants head.

But his hands don't ease from their tightened grip at her throat. He is set on a path and he refuses to deviate from it.

"Get the hell away from her." His fingers tighten and she hears Castle growl, her world almost fading to black before she looks up into Castle eyes one last time, forgiving and pleading.

The loud bang ricochets, wet sprays landing across her face and the hands on her neck loosen. Drawing in a ragged breath she struggles back from the fallen man's body. Not quite able to suck in enough air to breathe, as if she can't get enough of it as she starts to hyperventilate.

She stares down in horror at the fallen sniper, and back up at Castle, watching as both his arms fall downwards, gun shaking in his hand until it slips free of his fingers and it clatters to the ground.

* * *

She stands there, in the silence that had settled over her, arms wrapped tightly around herself, the robe slipping past one shoulder. Her chin falls to rest on her bare flesh and she can feel the goosebumps rise from the damp hair clinging to her back and the warmth of her breath across her skin...

She is done.

She has had enough...more than enough. Her life has taken enough beatings, knocked her on her ass one time too many and now...she just wants to stand here. Be still and normal and for _once _not feel like she is rushing to catch her breath.

She just wants to _breathe._

She hasn't been able to truly _breathe _for such a long time. Just draw in a lungful of air, letting it fill her up from the inside, re-energize and renew her. And standing here in his loft gives her all the air she needs.

And space.

All the space she isn't so sure she wants anymore.

What is the point?

If it means after everything she has been through she will end up standing alone. She doesn't want that. She doesn't want to spend the rest of her life wondering and lonely as she fights the darkness, raging against the oncoming storm.

She wants to fight whatever battles lie ahead with someone willing to stand by at her side.

There has only ever been one person strong enough to stand with her. The one person who will back her up, give her fortitude and grace. Knock her on her ass for her own good if necessary. Her able knight, her defender, going into battle for her in secret. Risking everything.

His life, her protection.

She shudders, because if it weren't for _him_...she'd be dead. She knows that, deep down on some elemental level and it hits her in wave after shuddering wave how close she came to losing him, losing herself.

"Oh...Kate." She hears, and suddenly there is no distance between them.

She lets him envelope her, wrap both his arms around her middle as he presses her to him. She feels no hesitation, holding nothing back as she sinks her cheek into his shoulder and her robe slips further. But she's warm here, and she lets out a sigh.

This is what she's needed. No comforting stares, or soothing words. But the feel of him safe and protecting. Protecting himself, as she keeps him close, her heart open and refusing to let him go.

She tucks her hands up, squishing them between her chest and his, curling herself into his body and the warmth, the _love_it provides. Kate lets it wash over her and she can feel his heart beating against her fists. The rhythmic dance giving her strength with each pounding thump and her own heart tries to stay in time.

But it's fluttering, the calm before the storm...maybe it's the eye of the storm. They have come through a lot and now they need to make it to the other side, but they are trapped here for a moment in the quiet...

Catching their breath.

What it means? She is not actually sure anymore.

A tear escapes her, rushing down her cheek and dripping into his shirt. "Shh," He soothes and she feels the cold air cling to her as his arm moves up, and his fingers brush the side of her face as he pulls the hair back, tucking it behind her ear.

"Thanks." She whispers rubbing her cheek on his shoulder, and closing her eyes.

"It wasn't safe for you there." He says, tugging her in closer.

The room falls silent aside from her breathing, and the beat of his heart beneath her fist. She can feel him too, the rise and fall of his chest, the heat of his body molded close to hers. Closer than they have ever been. And from this moment on she doesn't think she can ever let him go.

"Don't do that again. Ever." She says, voice deep, and yet raspy. Another tear falls and she neglects to wipe it away.

The image of her gun in his hand, and the guy falling to the ground flashes in his mind. He clamps his eyes shut. "I don't plan too."

He breathes in deeply, her whole body moving with his until he settles. And somehow she's wrapped even tighter, and his head is buried in her hair. She feels cold and hot all at once as she realizes both her shoulders are bare, her now dry curls tickling the exposed flesh. She shivers, and his arms rise, one pressing at her lower back, the other across it, brushing aside the gentle curls. She is engulfed by another shiver when suddenly his hot breath is at her skin, so close, and she can feel the thick, hot exhales through his nose.

But it's not out of fear, lost adrenaline from today's events, but a pick up in tempo, the air filled with tension, brewing and sizzling out all at once. Prickling at their skin and sending a fire through their veins at the feel of one another, so close, and yet not nearly close enough.

He loosens his hold on her, dropping his head, cheek rubbing against the back of her head, and then lowers his mouth to her shoulder. She inhales sharply, and hums out a soft sigh as his mouth moves, pressing a tentative kiss there.

Her fists unclench in the little space there is between their chests, her hands spreading out, palms against the thumping heart that keeps time with hers. Another soft press of his lips and she breathes in again, skin quivering in anticipation before she feels the heat of his tongue as it lathes at her flesh.

She draws in a deep breath, the musical twang in her heart loud, making it hard for her to ignore. But she doesn't want to. He answers her, sending the inner vibrations of her body haywire before he feathers kisses, moving closer to her neck.

Kate lifts her head looking up into those beautiful blue eyes of his, and she nods ever so slowly once.

His hands leave her back then, sweeping up to cup either side of her face, and she meets him in a soft kiss. It's simple, just the quick press of lips against each other, but as one moves just a little, the other compensates, opening their mouth and clutching at the back of the others head.

She moans first, and then his mouth opens over hers, and their tongues slide together not a duel, but equal. One feeding off their other with the same amount of need. He breathes her in, humming and sending the thrum through her entire body, pressing her every line of his being as she tastes him.

* * *

Esposito stares down at the names on the file, 'Katherine Beckett' dotted repeatedly through the notes and he sighs before he tucks the folder under his arm. The closed case stamp across the front should be the first thing she sees when she returns tomorrow. A new beginning maybe. No longer a weakness she needs to turn into a strength, just something she can have resolved.

Ryan moves around him, holding open the door to the morgue. They walk past Alexis waving at the girl as she continues to talk quietly into her phone. She raises a hand in acknowledgment but curls in on herself, cupping the phone to her face.

"...Guess I missed you. Lanie told me what happened on the roof Dad. I hope you and Detective Beckett are okay and …."

The two men leave the girl alone. Making their way towards Lanie. They watch as the M.E finishes signing the forms and takes custody of the body, the man who tried to murder their partner.

They stare across his body for a few seconds before Ryan breaks the silence. "Err...what's this?" He asks pointing to a teddy bear sitting next to a bag of evidence.

Esposito shrugs, "No clue." He looks up at Lanie "It came in with the body?"

She nods "Some of the evidence from the scene came in with the shooter. You don't think it's Beckett's do you?"

"That would be majorly creepy." Ryan says, poking the setting it on top of the case file. "Hey did you know Teddy bears are named after President Roosevelt?"

"The guy who started the C.I.A?"

"No, the other one. But hey..." He walks the bear along the table "Kinda cool right?"

"I don't know bro, does it matter? Do you want to take it home?" Esposito snickers.

Ryan makes a face, setting the mysterious teddy bear back onto the file. "No..." He then snorts, looking at it one last time before he moves, making his way over to Lanie as the other man follows. "Although Jenny might have liked it.."

They step through the door and suddenly both men are lifted off their feet, hurtling through the air. There is a cacophonous rip roaring thunder of sound, metal and wood and fire engulf them from every angle.

Glass flies in every direction, thick rolls of grey smoke divide the Detectives from one another as they hit the floor. Rubble falls, crashing from the ceiling.

Blackness lays heavy in the room and an eerie silence fills the morgue.

* * *

He tastes like longing, heated fire that consumes her, something she will never be able to quench. The need is too great. Too passionate to ever be fulfilled. But in this moment, she's more than content, more than satisfied and undeniably sated.

Her fingers spread across his chest in the silence of his bedroom, gently circling the tender beat of his heart that rises to meet her fingertips. Her head rests in the hollow of his shoulder, his arm thrown casually around her and she wants to look up. Find his face in the dim light of the room and just stare at him...creepily.

She hums a laugh, curling further into his side. Hiding her face for a moment in the warmth of his chest.

"Kate?" He whispers.

"Mm?" She hums again, fingers still dancing across his skin.

"No matter what happens..."

"Always." She says, resting her chin on his chest and looking up into his eyes.

He smiles down at her, a smile so wide and so full of love she can't help but rise up, and press a chaste kiss to his lips.

Her phone rings.

"I should get that." She says through a grin, pecking his lips once more.

"Don't get up, stay in bed." He says as it shrills again.

She groans and starts to turn away from him. "It could be important." She says with a laugh as he pulls her in and rolls her over onto her back. Her arm is outstretched towards the bedside table as his lips descend on her neck.

His phone rumbles on the counter and Kate laughs again shoving him away. "You get yours, I'll get mine." She lets her hand roam gently across his face. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

He reluctantly gets out of bed, padding out of his room and pausing in the doorway. He hears her answer her phone, now leaning against the frame and looking upon her as he clicks to voice mail. He smiles when his daughter's voice fills his ears.

"Hey Dad, I guess I missed you. Lanie told me what happened on the roof Dad. I hope you and Detective Beckett are okay and I'm gonna be home soon. Lanie said once they sign the snipers body over I can leave and he...it...the body just arrived."

He turns in the doorway to tell Kate his daughter will be home soon, but something in her face stops him. Her mouth is hanging open, her eyes wide with shock as she raises her head.

"I love you Dad and I'm glad you're both okay I'll see you..." Castle jumps as a deafening blast rumbles through his ear and the line goes dead.

"Castle." Kate says, her voice haunting as she slips from the bed, "There been an explosion at the precinct."

Their eyes meet and Kate watches the look of horror come to life.

"Castle?" She asks moving around the room.

He shakes his head when she comes to rest at his side. Her hands finding their way to his arms.

"Castle what? Talk to me." She gives up all pretense and begs, unable to take the look of pain on his face.

"Alexis... she was...I heard..." He holds the phone out to her as he tries to understand what just happened. "She was...and there...the line went dead Kate."

* * *

Downtown the smoldering remains of the twelfth precinct continue to fill the sky with smoke and the sirens echo loudly into the night.


End file.
